Short Thinly Poems

still, cold, heavy frost
birdbath thinly frozen....
ground dove choir  ...

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The stars sing thinly,
a kaleidoscope song of desire
that resonates within 
as my heart takes flight...

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fleeting
        dream 
            states
thinly disguised,
residues
of the mortal
                life...

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Onions basil and garlic
Simmering softly
Thinly sliced leeks buttery splash
Chives and parsley  mash
Salt and pepper dash
Broth and sip
Soup...

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Such transparent lies, 
those sad eyes dipped in a smile;
Thinly veiled phrases 
masking colors all too real;
I see right through your stained glass....

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Gathered groping 
The cheesy eloping
Thinly spread across time
Wandering amidst bloated stride
Burning from flesh to organ
Incinerating hope
And carrying no burden...

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A lie is like a leaky zeppelin...
patched together with bubble gum breath.
In time it will violently come back to earth.
The earth's heart has a karmic core
thinly wrapped in gravity....

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Covered thinly, by a bloody clot.
Unhealed.
Congealed.
Unwelcome obligations to eat, sleep, dress
fulfilled.
That your body is still here
is the best that can be said 
of this,
the first year....

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dread grips world
the failure snide zest
lambs are calm,
top to toe,
thinly veiled sorrow on times
Cackles are flimsy.



Shandorma is a form with (3/5/3/3/7/5) for a total of 26 syllables....

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Vibrations quiver in smoke-filled
volcanoes or parlors not much
difference.

You suck mine, I'll suck yours
both of us feelin'
for stuff that don't suck.

The difference between a fist and a
palm.. umm..
why is that not “duh!!”?

Mysteries, histories
and so on......

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Listen to poem:

Shadows Densely Cast
David J Walker

How soon the night begins to call
Fall is falling fast

Shadows thinly passing all 
Daylight dwindles past 

A crusted moon 
a ragged ball

auric emblems last 
Hold your breath 

against a death
shadows densely cast...

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What is it?
I see it, hanging there
On the wall not even fall
Black in colour, small sized, round shaped
 

For a while through days
I thought it isn’t me thinking
That her style isn’t hers

I chose between curvy streets
Huge and noisy
A thing she may love 
Thinly and tinny 
Amazing hat....

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flowers weep to early dawn
a passage from nightly quest
fleeting in our senses to no one there
stirring as though a waking child
passion cries in love despair
thinly veiled shame abruptly caught
angst wrought on wings
fly away fly
love sings to us
a sirens wail
a breath
a touch
a hearts desire...

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Crispy, crunchy, baked to perfection.
Sparkling, golden, a mouth-watering complexion.
That feeling of joy sparks through your soul,
As you reach into the overflowing bowl.
Your taste buds are totally astound,
As you bite on the chip, so perfectly round.
Lightly salted and thinly chopped,
Baked and flaked and cropped and popped....

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My women's a rump-roast
Potatoes her thighs
Ripe reddened carrots
for thinly sliced eyes

Onions for folly
that lobes ring on high
Radishes hatched up
for lovers to eye

Thin flowing gravy
for sexual roll
Brown oily colors
as taken for soul

Thoughts for a woman
as something to know
When crawling to get one
as Chef on the go...

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Sands streaming through my identity
Who I was and what’s to come
     The pinnacle and troughs spinning 
Invisible in speeds slow and fast
     Above trials now and forgotten

     Existence cycles with imagination
Ever dispersing thinly
     As the midnight sands crest and fall
The wind tolling flat chimes
     Death reads the last stanza...

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Deep-sea fish you find a picture book. 
There you can write your name, 
the human relations also describes. 
It sinks from a human edge to the deep sea. 
While drawing a spiral sink in loop. 
So to live for thousands of years, 
get the ugly of that has been refined. 
So after death quietly, it has melted 
music of thinly Franz Liszt in the background....

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Time was once a letter sent
A thinly packaged salutation
Revealing reads and rushes
A content discourse situation

Story lines entwined grapevines
Most privately complicit
A baton passed a relay cast
Too confidential to elicit

Artistic flair in swirling script
Stylish prose self styled emphatic
A photographic written pose
Of diatonic scale chromatic...

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The final straw

thinly concealed stripe
heavy line easy
simple strike
it doesnt make me queasy
so simply fascinating
as it spreads further apart
the flood procrastinating
before it can start
shield cleanly cut
breaking tiny swords
not cold not hot
the flood is a horde
split the canvas
dry and crumbling
frames the tower as
and leaves them shambling...

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The bags that sag under glassy eyes are purple
black. His face is downward drawn with pencil neck
and bow bent back. Devoid of chest a mass of thinly muscled
bone and flesh. He strokes Mary Martin at a soirée
by the garden wall. She sings lilacs to hummingbirds
as rainbows rise and fall. She whispers wonders wrapped
in riddles wove in layers, her looks, her touch, her smell,
at a soirée by the garden wall....

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Beauty betrayed me for it has found another
Now her splendor shines for all to see
My hideousness hides under this thinly veiled cover
All eyes on her
I have been forgotten long ago
She holds the baton now
My beauty just a blur
Once a merry go round of decadence 
Now just benign
It’s gone and faded away
She’s at the end
A new one comes
She joins the club
The abandoned ones
We are all the same underneath...

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Sleep you waking dreamless poet, 

earthbound whore of words.

Awakening to the world 

of differing drifted moments piled

high against all dreams 

still growing. Dreams unknowing 

held against your breast so tightly

curtain thinly thinning gone 

and merge with joy 

and merge with self and merge until

all aspects are but one 

and you are home.

Sweet waking dreamless sleep

the joy of home....

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My heart broken
Sliced
Cut 
So deeply
Tiny incisions
They hurt the most

Paper cuts 
Thinly
The pain lasts longer that way
The loss I feel
Seeping out in the quiet of the harrowing nights

You break your heart everyday
The moment you wake up
And live without her
Now from inside
It does it of its own free will

My heart is crying
Dying
Disfiguring
Disforming
Birth cord cut like at birth


My Mum died......

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Overgrowths of arm-post life
Lift upward as my steam-breath
Vanishes thinly into the sky

Cool sweat drips deliberately
As the stacks grow larger
And the sawdust smells and sticks

The wagon-load will wallow obediently
As the frost bites cleanly
Through the still winter dusk

Ash white smoke curls softly
From the cut-stone chimney
Where a portrait of simplicity
Sleeps eternally in my mind
...

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what we expect we get it see,
think thin yes that's bloody me,
all about self perception,.
self deception ...
con the mind the body follows:)

what no plurry fee!

Don Johnson 20-july-11
I'm  using the theory that we get what we fear and expect especially extra weight, 
(dumbo subconcious thinks it wants fat hey)  Look in the mirror see the younger ye, see
the mirror look just like thee. and then hunger for it, obsession:)...

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